Dead Moon: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller (16 page)

30

As much as we wanted to leave right then and there, we couldn’t. My head was still swimming from the shot I took outside and Jill convinced me to sit and rest for a while. Once I could stand without feeling like I was going to vomit and/or fall over, we picked it up and left. It messed with our timeframe, which I wasn’t happy about. It meant that if we didn’t make it to the river quickly, we’d be stuck here for another night. Navigating the city at night was a death sentence and it wasn’t hard to convince the others.

Now, Vinny and I lead the way, shotguns in hand. Thankfully we were able to save them and our ammo from the initial conflict on the stairs outside. Vinny said he dropped his to help me, but picked it back up when he dragged me inside. Apparently Jill snagged my felled weapons and followed us in. Even my trusted baton is back in my pocket.

“Hold up,” John says, gripping my second Glock at the ready. It’s the one Vinny was using earlier, the one I got with the help of Betty. “Let me go first. I know this building better than anyone.”

Vinny and I step aside and let the man go. I would have argued against it if he wasn’t who he was. His combat background and the comfortable way he holds the gun makes the decision easy though. He’s no doubt better with that thing than any of us are.

I glance back at Jill and Carla. Both women have their small caliber handguns out, bringing up the rear. Their ammo is in short supply, but it should be enough if we don’t get into a serious fire fight anytime soon. Jack and Beverly Howard are right smack in the middle of everyone, being protected as best we can.

Stepping out into the
Lower Level
, John sweeps his flashlight back-and-forth, backhand style, holding the gun directly above it. It’s exactly as I would expect someone with police, or in his case, military training to do. Thanks to him, we all have the same LED flashlights too, minus the Howard’s. They just huddle together, never letting go of one another.

John stops and signals for us to join him, his posture relaxing a bit. We quickly follow his instructions and silently move forward, sweeping our own beams back-and-forth.

“I forgot to ask,” I say, whispering. “What ever happened to the creatures that made it inside?”

John turns and motions to Jill and Carla. “They killed a few as we ran, but after that…”

“We didn’t go looking for them,” Jill adds. “Would you have?”

Answer: No, I wouldn’t have, but it still has me on edge knowing some of the Unseen could be near.

“Let’s keep moving,” I say, turning to John. “Lead the way. Let’s get down onto the tracks and we’ll go from there.”

Without acknowledging me, he turns and heads deeper into the basement level. He continues to sweep his light back-and-forth, clearing the way for the rest of us to follow. Vinny and I have moved out to the sides while our wives continue to guard our rears. The Howards are also still latched onto each other, shuffling forward.

“Down here,” John says from ten feet ahead, pointing his flashlight. Illuminated in the LED is a line of wood-framed glass doors, leading down to the subway level. I’ve come up through this entrance only once in my ten years of living here. Generally we walk, or if the situation forces us to…we’d take a cab or bus.

“So,” John asks from the front, “you really think we can get off the island using kayaks?”

I shrug. “It’s worth a shot. We need to get off the island quick and I doubt we could get a car through any of the tunnels or bridges.”

“What about the Howards?” he asks.

“There’s normally a couple of canoes there too. Shouldn’t be an issue for one of us to row them out.”

“What about a boat?” Carla asks. “The 79th Street Boat Basin houses all kinds of yachts and whatnot. We could just pile into one of the larger boats and cast off.”

“
If
,” Vinny replies, “there are keys aboard, which I doubt. We could get there and be trapped. The kayaks are our best bet. Frances—”

“Ahem,” Jill interrupts, motioning to herself.

“…and Jillian’s idea is sound. We should head for the
Boathouse.
”

He bows to his cousin, a smirk on his face. Jill curtsies her thanks and we continue forward, John still in the lead.

The night guard grabs a door handle and pushes. As soon as he does, we hear something from behind us. It’s something I’ve grown accustomed to.

“Shit,” Vinny says, looking at me, aiming his shotgun behind us. “It’s them.”

“Vinny?” Carla asks, gripping his arm.

“It’s the creatures still inside the museum. They must have followed our scent.”

I turn back to John. “Quickly, Sergeant.”

He nods and throws open the door, ushering us inside. The Howards are the last to make it through the doors, just as the sound of skittering nails erupts from the dark. The Unseen have made it down into the lower levels.

“Can you see how many?” I whisper to the man.

He shakes his head. “Not yet.”

“Let’s not find out.” I then turn and move forward to the stairs leading down to the museum’s subway level ticket counter and security checkpoint. Everyone follows as quietly as they can and we make it behind the desks before we hear something bump the doors above.

“Stay down and stay quiet,” I whisper. “They may pass us by.”

The doors to the subway station rattle again as they’re struck, but they don’t open.
Please don’t open.
The Howards, along with Vinny and Carla are huddled inside one of the square ticket counters and Jill, John, and I are in the other. There’s a gap of about ten feet inbetween us and the entrance to the platforms lay to our rear.

Can’t leave yet, or we’ll be done for.

The doors get bumped again and I stand a little taller, just enough to get the barrel of my shotgun up-and-over the countertop. Everyone else who is armed, does the same. I look over and thankfully
don’t
see the Howards.

Good. They need to stay down.

The squeaking of a door opening refocuses my attention back up the stairs. One of them opens and shuts slightly, but nothing comes in. I glance to Jill who has a questioned look on her face. I shrug her my answer and again aim my weapon up the stairs, waiting.

Four of the doors explode inward in a shower of glass as a Goblin destroys one of each. They are airborne when we begin our barrage. I clip one, knocking it out of the air. It lands in a heap nearby, crashing to the unforgiving staircase. John and Jill take care of it while I search for my next target.

I pull the trigger on the next closest one as Vinny does the same. Our twin shells rip the Goblin apart, spinning to the floor, blood spraying in every direction.

Carla squeezes off a few rounds towards the third creature as it leaps onto the nearby wall. It begins to climb, but only makes it a step before Vinny dislodges it with a quick pull of the trigger.

I can’t find the fourth one until it lands on the counter behind us and swipes down. Its clawed hand is caught by John who pulls the thing down to the ground, leaping onto its back. He then wraps his thick forearms around the Goblin’s neck as it claws and scrapes his flesh. Beyond furious, John squeezes, locking his wrists under the thing’s chin. It reminds me of a move I’ve seen in wrestling before. He then leans back and pulls as hard as he can.

With one final grunt, John, the night guard, yanks, breaking the monster’s neck with a savage battle cry. He then slowly unhinges his arms and lets go, dropping the lifeless body to the floor. It lands right inbetween Jill’s and my feet.

No one comments or questions the man. We all know what his background is. I’d rather not know how many times he’s done that. A conversation for another day—over a beer…or five.

Everyone—including the Howards—stands as one.

“Everyone okay?” I ask, checking my own body for injuries.

John seems to be the only one with any kind of battle scars. His arms are cut, but nothing to serious. Jill pulls a couple of wipes from her purse and quickly takes care of them before any kind of infection sets in. He doesn’t even flinch.

“You good?”

He nods. He honestly looks fine, just a little winded from exertion maybe.

“Never thought I’d have to do that again.”

And there it is... Great... Now I’m curious.

But before I can even think of the right question, Vinny speaks up. “We should go while it’s quiet.”

He’s right and I say as much. “Alright,” I step forward. “Head south to 72nd. It’s not far and we should be able to take our time and recover a little as long as we’re alone down here.”

“And if we’re not?”

I look over to Mr. Howard. It’s the first time either one of them has spoken. They’ve stayed quiet until now, letting us do the heavy lifting—and rightfully so.

I’m a cop and John is a former badass.

He still is one.

“For everyone’s sake…” I then turn and look away from the older man. “I hope you’re wrong.”

I walk away from the older man, grinding my teeth, but get stopped by a familiar touch.

“What’s wrong?” Jill asks, pulling me aside.

“We’re getting closer and closer to finishing this and I can’t help but imagine something horrible is about to happen.”

31

“It should only take us fifteen minutes or so by foot to get there if we don’t have to stop for anything,” John says as he climbs down onto the track below. He then turns to help Mr. and Mrs. Howard. “Luckily, there’s no electricity and we won’t have to worry about getting fried.”

The look on Mrs. Howard’s face is priceless as she’s set directly on top of one of the normally electrified tracks. It’s also the only time I’ve been thankful for no power thus far. Turning, I help Jill down, gripping her hips. Playfully, she all but falls into my arms, and I don’t let her go, her feet just inches off the ground. I hold her for a second longer, feeling my heart flutter as the contours of her body slide against mine before setting her down.

“Still a stunner,” I say with a smile, feeling something in me. It’s my inner prepubescent boy coming out. Seeing her after all the worry I was feeling is bringing out the old emotions I had for her.

“You have some impeccable timing, don’t you?” She shakes her head, but I think I see the hint of her cheeks blushing in my flashlight’s aura.

“You love it…” I say, following behind her.

She turns, her eyes serious, burning holes in me like Supergirl’s heat vision. But then it cracks, unable to hold the murderous pose. Her eyes agree with me, and so does the smile she’s trying to hold back.

She grips my hand and pulls me along, bringing up the rear of the group. Just for good measure, I slide my hand under her knee-high dress and squeeze her butt, eliciting a squeal from her. It’s always been a ticklish spot, one I’ve come to exploit over the years.

“Seriously you two?” We turn and find Carla standing behind us. Apparently, we aren’t the ones bringing up the
rear
. She stomps forward, shaking her head, Vinny in tow.

“What?” I mockingly ask Carla, motioning to my wife’s butt. “I missed it.”

Jill meets my eyes and we both burst out laughing, getting shushed by the rest of the group. Carla turns and stares at us. So instead of heeding her, I just reach around and grab Jill’s ass again. The look I get from Carla is almost worth the punch I get from Jill. She nails me right in my bloodied left arm and I wince, doing the pain dance, hopping around on my tippy toes, breathing like Vinny when I kicked him between the legs.

“Oh, sorry—Frank. I didn’t mean to.”

I shake my arm and try to loosen it up, but am unsuccessful. The throbbing is really bad and I even think I feel it start to bleed again. I reach inside my jacket and cringe, feeling the wetness and warmth of blood. I then slide my hand up to my shoulder and thankfully feel that dressing is dry. I breathe
a little
easier. Betty’s stitches are still intact, but the wound from the Siren’s nails isn’t. I retract my hand, showing Jill my hand.

“What has happened to you?” she asks, her face worried.

The question is a little hard to explain, but we have a few minutes so I give her the skinny of what my last few days were like. And yes, I skipped the whole ‘me jumping from the seventh floor balcony thing’ like I said I was going to. I don’t even think I told Vinny that one either. I remember mentioning hiding in a dumpster before going to Harvey’s the first time. So to keep the story consistent, I tell Jill the same.

Come clean when the time is right.

As I reiterate my tale, I realize that each and every encounter is worse than the one before it. By the time I’m done telling her, she’s in tears again. She stops me in my tracks with a soft and loving hand to my face, stroking my thickening stubble.

I reach up and hold it in place and look into her eyes. “I told you I was coming.”

She throws herself into my arms again, sobbing, not caring if anyone is watching. She’s put on a good front so far, but deep down she’s terrified and has been since this all began.

“Hey,” I say, getting her attention. “Stay by my side no matter what and I promise you,” I kiss her, “we’ll make it to the river.”

She nods and I wipe her tears with my overpriced hankie from Harvey’s.

She sees it and laughs. “Why do you have a silk handkerchief with an
F
embroidered on it?”

I grin and then laugh a little. It sure does feel good to laugh right now. Every time I smile or laugh, I can feel some of the weight being lifted off my shoulders. I guess I forgot the whole Harvey’s story, but I don’t get a chance to tell her. We’ve arrived at the—

“Oh, great,” I hear someone say, instantly getting crushed from above by more stress.

I turn away from Jill and see everyone standing still, watching as John inspects what I thought would be the 72nd Street subway station.

“Is that a subway train?” I ask from the back of the group, making my way up to the front, holding Jill’s hand. Once our beams add to the other’s lights, I see it for what it is.

“Nope,” Carla says, “it’s actually
two
of them.”

The imposing transports are parked side-by-side, blocking our egress. We need to get around them—which I quickly see isn’t going to work, or…

“Looks like we’re going in,” John says, frowning, not happy.

“In?” Carla asks, her voice cracking.

“Yes, in,” John answers, testing one of the rear doors. It doesn’t budge. “Darn.”

“Darn?” I ask.

Jill elbows me in the ribs. “Not everyone has a potty mouth like you.”

Vinny begins to chuckle at my expense, but quickly stops.

“Or you, Vincente.”

He looks away from Jill’s venomous glare, like he found something better to look at in the darkened shaft.

“Hang on, John,” I say, climbing up to the door. “I got it.”

“How are you going to open it?” Carla asks, her attitude returning in spades.

I slam the butt end of my shotgun into the glass window, shattering it. Then, I carefully reach inside the fresh hole and unlock the door. Stepping through, I turn back to the crabby woman. “Like that.”

Jill grins and steps up. I half-lift her, my wrecked arm giving out a little. Realizing this, she quickly makes up for my lack of strength and grabs a handhold, hoisting herself up the rest of the way.

I look down and watch as she tiptoes in, her red heels skittering through the broken glass. The shuffling echoes a little through the subway tunnel, making it sound like it’s coming from behind us. “First stop when we get topside is a department store. We need to get you ladies some new footwear.”

Jill looks down and nods. “Something a little more appropriate would be nice—clothes too. I’m freezing.”

I wiggle out of my cozy jacket and slip it onto her shoulders, earning me a peck on the cheek and a look that says, “If only we were alone…”

Smiling, I decide not to mention that she has my blood soaked jacket on. I’m sure she knows and is too cold to care. There could be worse things than that going on right this second.

Shouldering my shotgun, I step further into the train car, seeing nothing but death. Bodies are everywhere, most in pieces. No movement though—which is good. Whatever was here seems to have moved on.

Vinny is next, seeing the inside of the car when he’s halfway up. “Fabulous…” He then mutters what must be another string of Italian curses, because he gets another look from Jill.

I offer him my good hand and he takes it, getting a shove from Carla from below. He quickly turns and helps her up next. As soon as she sees the bloodbath, she gags, dry heaving at the sight…
ugh…
and smell.

John’s in next and then Mrs. Howard. I turn away and peer deeper into the subway car.

“Front of the train must be at the platform,” I say, breaking down what must have happened. “Would have made it super easy for a few of the creatures to get inside and shred everything in sight.”

“Hang on, Mr. Howard.”

I turn back and watch as John tries to help the older man into the car, pulling him up while the elder man climbs. He’s halfway into the car when he gets yanked out, shattering the surrounding quietness with a wail of agony. He quickly disappears, shouting the entire time. I’m about to rush forward, but a distinct gurgle and a spray of blood ends in the man’s silence.

Snarling hums from the darkness below. Something is down there, and it’s eating Mr. Howard.

“No! Jack!”

Mrs. Howard hobbles forward, tripping on the dead, screaming her husband’s name. She pushes past the bewildered night guard and is forcibly wrenched from the train car, meeting the same fate as her dearly departed. She barely gets out a cry of protest before it too is cut off.

More growling erupts from below and we back up from the rear door, stumbling over the bodies as Mrs. Howard did. I grab John and pull him along so he isn’t pulled from the subway car as well. After a second or two of being hauled further into the car, he shrugs free of my grip, coming around.

I step around him and point my shotgun towards the door—just as a Siren leaps in, mouth agape, dripping blood. I follow her through the air, squeezing the trigger of my weapon, but ease off it. Three quick shots, all striking the demon in the chest, erupt from John’s gun. The Siren falls at my feet as I jump away, falling into an empty seat. Then, the former Marine calmly steps forward and puts a bullet in the creature’s head, ending her hunt for good.

I look up to him, mouth open in shock.

He doesn’t say a word and turns, walking the other way.

Vinny steps over and helps me up. He then walks over and taps the she-thing with his shoe. “Guy doesn’t mess around, does he?”

I look back and watch John as he leads the way forward.

“Damn right he doesn’t.”

Just for peace of mind, I step over the dead Siren and close the door, locking it. It won’t keep anything out for long with the window busted out, but at least it might slow them down a little.

“You okay, babe?”

I turn around, seeing the worried look on Jill’s face increase.

I shake my head. “No—no I’m not."